Defender
by letrie
Summary: When she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, Lexi Hannigan – and her best friend Lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. But with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.
1. Girl Time

**title: **defender**  
summary: **when she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, lexi hannigan – and her best friend lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. but with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.

* * *

"Does this colour suit me, Lex?"

Snapped out of my musings by the strawberry blond, I frowned at her hand – the side of which she'd coloured with lipstick and was holding up to her face – before smiling widely. Without waiting for a verbal reply, Lydia – as in, HBIC Lydia Martin – rolled her eyes and nodded her head.

"Of course it does." She answered her own question, putting the tester away and plucking the tube off the shelf. With her task done, she turned back to me. "Okay, so what was this about a dream?" I shrugged, picking up a tube of mascara from another shelf, before responding in a forced-airy tone,

"I don't know. I was on the reserve, there was this body – like an actual body, totally split in half and leaking guts and stuff – and some kid got bit by something. Then it was just... over. I woke up. Weird, huh?" There was a lot I'd left out, admittedly, and I'd shortened it a whole lot, but that was the general gist. The vivid dream had been at the forefront of my mind all day, since I'd been woken up by it at four o'clock this morning, and it was only now that I was explaining it to my best friend.

Without turning away from her perusal of a shelf displaying nail varnish, Lydia shrugged. I got the idea that she was rolling her eyes, and I shook my head at her turned back. "Maybe you're just overstressed. With school starting tomorrow and everything."

I sighed. I didn't think so – it didn't feel right. It was like the dream was more important than that. Shaking my head at my stupid feelings, I murmured, "Maybe." After a beat of silence – in which I starting searching for lipstick – I questioned, "You nervous about tomorrow?" I peered over my shoulder at her.

The redhead raised one well-groomed eyebrow at me in the mirror, giving me a look that said clearly, _are-you-crazy? _ I shook my head, giving a laugh that was much lighter than I felt. "Of course you're not, little-miss-queen-bee."

My friend gave me a wink in the mirror, before pulling a jar of magenta nail paint off the shelf and eyeing the objects in my hands. Her eyes flickered up to my face, clearly double-checking that the makeup I'd picked out would look alright with my tanned skin-tone, before she gave me a nod of approval and a pleased smile. Maybe someone else would've been pissed with her lack of trust in my judgement, but Lydia had been outfitting me since I was old enough to wear a bra, so I was used to it.

Linking her arm through mine after we'd paid, we wandered through the mall slowly, chatting about whether Tara Finch was banging Cody Peters, Lydia's boyfriend Jackson, my own current singular status (as well as whether Tom from the football team was interested in me), Jackson, the first day of school, and Jackson.

"-He gave me his key, Lexi. As in, his _house _key." Lydia complained over her cup of Coke Zero, snatching a fry from me and dropping it in her mouth. Her bright eyes looked at me earnestly, brows furrowed in a frown, and I sighed, swallowing the food in my mouth. Personally, I thought Jackson was an asshole; I had since junior high and he'd started walking around like a superior asshole.

Still, I gave her an excited look and tried to push my dislike for her dick of a boyfriend out of my head. I beamed at her cheerfully, the smile feeling awkward and false on my lips, but if she noticed, she didn't say anything. "Wow, Lyd. That's- that's great. Oh my God, you must be getting _really _serious then."

She beamed for my efforts, fingers playing with a chain tucked into her shirt, and shrugged. "I _guess_. Yeah. Yeah, we are." This realisation in and of itself seemed to spur her into further excitement, and the smile that lit up her face could have blown out the sun. The strawberry-blond giggled girlishly, and soon I joined in, choking on my milkshake.

Lydia gave me a concerned look as I pounded on my chest, before rolling her eyes in what I hoped was affection. "You are _such _a dweeb." She stated, shaking her head. I glared at her. I was _not _a dweeb. Granted, I might have been a few years ago, but she had since groomed me into the kind of girl she 'approved' of. Personally, I preferred myself now that she'd given me this makeover, and I'd spent last year delighting in the looks I got in the halls and strutting about the halls of Beacon Hills High like I owned the place. I didn't, of course, but Lydia _did_.

"You are _such _a bitch." I retorted, chomping down on another fry. After finishing the rest of her coke, Lydia gave me an affronted look, which quickly faded into a grin.

"I know. Now c'mon, you've got stories to tell."

I frowned confusedly. _Stories?_ Clearly, some of my cluelessness had leaked onto my face, because she rolled her eyes and prodded, "Italy? Remember? The place you went on holiday to? C'mon, spill. There must've been a few hot guys, a fling here and there!"

I felt my cheeks flame in a blush, suddenly feeling as though my holiday was inadequate in my friend's eyes. "Uh... there were a few hotties around, yeah. But uh, no, no flings."

Lydia gave me a scandalised look, leaning forward in her seat. "What? No flings?" Immediately a suspicious look overcame her. "Why not?"

And there it was. The question I'd been faced with for the last three months. Why not? A stab of pain erupted in my chest – no, not somewhere cheesy like my heart – and I sighed, answering her question and sparking another dozen with, "Nick."

Immediately, sympathy bloomed in her eyes, and she leaned forward further to take my hand. _I'm not some kid, Lydia. _I thought scathingly, before guilt welled up inside. She was only trying to help, after all. "Sorry, Lex." Lydia murmured after a beat of silence. I shrugged. "Anyway, so what else do you remember about this dream?"

Internally, I thanked God that Lydia Martin was my friend. The girl might be petty and bitchy at times, but she knew when to back off, and when to be a good friend. I offered her a hesitant smile, which she returned. With a sigh, I thought back to my dream, picturing the dark trees of the preserve and the even darker sky, the scrambling, fumbling boy and the red eyes that glowed from the shadows. "There was a boy. He looks, maybe, our age? He's kinda a loser; inhaler, stupid hair. He falls over, drops that stupid inhaler, and there's, like, this body. It's all gross and cut in half. And, I don't know, things are too fast, but he gets bitten. And _God_, I sound fucking insane."

I opened my eyes again to see Lydia giving me an odd look. "What?" I questioned. There was a beat of silence, before a grin crawled across her face, and she giggled.

"You went all... _psychic._" I frowned, picturing myself in a turban while waving my hands over a crystal ball, before snorting slightly.

"_Right_."

After finishing our food – well, _my _food, since Lydia was on a strict diet – we wandered around for a while, going into a few more stores and walking out with even _more _bags, before my dad texted to say he was making dinner. Lydia drove me home, both of us discussing the next day eagerly. I was apprehensive to return to school, to say the least.

I sighed, looking out the car window at my house, before turning and hugging Lydia goodbye. "See you tomorrow, biatch." I murmured into her thick hair, feeling her arms tighten around my back as she laughed into my shoulder – she being several inches shorter than I – and replied,

"See you, dweeb." After pulling away, I climbed out of her car, turned and waved, before heading towards the front door. After jiggling the key around in the stiff lock for a few moments, I finally got it open, and stepped into the foyer. It wasn't particularly big – just big enough to fit the stairs that curled around to the right, heading for the next floor, the door into the kitchen besides the stairs and the doors to the living and dining rooms on the wall beside that – but had a particularly homey feel, with its plush carpets and cream walls.

"I'm home!" I called.

"Hey sweetie!" My dad called from the kitchen.

"Hi honey!" My papa yelled from the living room.

I smiled, dropping the bags on the table beside the door – I'd come back for them later – and poking my head into the kitchen. My dad – Oliver Hannigan – was stood at the stove, cooking something that smelled _divine_. He looked up from the pan to see me, smile creeping across his face. I didn't look a thing like him; while we had vaguely similar shades of brown eyes, his hair was far lighter than my own chocolate curls, and his face was smaller. With slightly paler skin than me and a tall frame, standing beside him and my papa, it couldn't have been clearer that I was adopted.

"Good day?" He questioned, stirring the contents of the pan with a wooden spoon. I shrugged, reaching into the refrigerator for a carton of orange juice and fetching a glass from one of the cupboards.

"Yeah. Me and Lydia went shopping."

He grinned, looking up at me. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?" More hesitantly, he added, "How much did you spend?" I was some-what famous for going overboard when I went shopping and buying everything in sight, but even so, an offended spark flickered in my belly.

"Hey! I didn't spend much. I've got the receipts to prove it." I stuck out my tongue playfully, and he laughed. "Anyway, just... makeup. A couple of possible outfits for tomorrow. That kind of thing." Dad nodded, looking vaguely interested. I rolled my eyes. "How was your day?"

He shrugged. "S'alright. I got a few more chapters done." Dad was an author, and he'd been working on his latest novel for _months_. "Get me some plates, would you?"

Swallowing my juice, I reached for the plates in the china cupboard, passing them into his waiting hand and leaning against the counter. "What're you making?"

He grinned at me over his shoulder. "My infamous linguini. Want yours now or later?"

I felt sorta guilty; having already eaten at the food court in the mall, I wasn't all that hungry. "Later. Definitely later." He gave me a look, before shrugging.

"Your choice."

With that said, he passed me a roll of cling-film, before yelling, "Benjamin! Food's ready!"

From the living room, papa gave a hoot. Dad and I shared a look, him laughing softly. He came striding through, shaggy light brown hair brushed neatly and tall frame covered in sweats. Clearly, he'd only recently come home. Papa worked as a lawyer at the Whittemore law firm, and had done for _years_. Quite how he'd ended up with a writer was seemingly lost on most of his colleagues. I was glad he had.

He pecked Dad's cheek gleefully, picking up a plate off the counter. "You, Oliver, are a _saint_." Dad rolled his eyes, swatting at papa's shoulder and replying idly, "I know." Papa laughed. I rolled my eyes at the two, cling-filming my plate of pasta, before putting it into the refrigerator.

"Hey, Lexi." Papa greeted, smiling at me softly. Papa had a very happy face, overall. His features were softer than dad's, and his hair was longer, but he had much more similar colouring to me. He pecked my cheek too on his way past.

"Hey, papa." I replied, grinning at him. He eyed the bags near the door for a moment, before glancing over his shoulder at me with a raised brow. "What?" I asked, mirroring him.

He laughed, shaking his head softly, before murmuring, "Nothing, Lex." With that said, he continued into the living room. I rolled my eyes. My parents – dads, whatever – were particularly careful about my shopping habits. Dad himself was rather similar to me, and since I was young, they'd kept an eye on what I bought. I could understand why, to be honest, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

Picking up the bags, I headed up the stairs and down the hall, to the last door on the left. With both hands full of bags, I nudged it open with my foot, before dropping all the bags onto the floor. My room wasn't anything particularly special; I'd painted the walls bright blue on a whim two years ago, and I'd spent a lot of time tacking posters of bands and celebrities on top of the paint over the last couple of years. My bed – a comfy double I'd gotten for my birthday last year – was covered in creased white sheets and a blue throw, with my old Pluto plush thrown onto the pillows. Beside the bed was a plush blue rug and a white bedside table, on which I'd thrown a couple of candles, a lamp, a few half-used, bright bottles of nail polish, a lot of makeup and a jewellery box. On the other side of the bed, halfway down the wall, was a wide window, on which I'd situated a few pillows to act as a window seat. The dreamcatcher I'd made at an arts & crafts workshop four years ago had been tied to my headboard, as had a selection of fairy-lights. On the wall opposite my bed was my closet; a big, white thing positively overflowing with clothes.

I collapsed onto my bed beside the bags, closing my eyes. I was _exhausted_. While I loved shopping and Lydia – both were even better when together – both quickly gave me headaches and made my feet hurt. After a moment or two of relaxation, I sat up with a groan, slipping off my heels and suddenly feeling much shorter without them. I massaged the crick in my neck, sighing as relief came.

After unpacking the bags and putting my purchases away, I collapsed, once again, into bed, curling under the sheets and burying my face in the pillow.

I fell asleep with howls in my ears and red eyes in the dark.

* * *

**notes: **new fanfiction, woo! tbh, lexi's been floating around in my head for a while, so it was nice to put her on paper. i've got a little more inspiration for this than i do for a connotation of infinity, so here's hoping you like it :) in other news, i now have a tumblr, yay! extra tidbits and outfits can be found at the link in my profile. mind reviewing?


	2. Fresh Meat

**title: **defender**  
summary: **when she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, lexi hannigan – and her best friend lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. but with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.

* * *

The next morning was a blur.

Scrambling out of bed with the grace only a cranky teenage girl can manage – that is, none at all – I rushed about the room, picking up a pair of heeled booties and snatching a black blazer and a teal dress that ended at mid-thigh from the closet. It had been too long since I'd had to wake up this early, and my drowsiness stunted my movement, making it slow and clumsy. I smothered a yawn into my palm, tugging a brush through my curls with difficulty. It was _far _too early for this kind of crap.

It could be said that my long holiday had put me at a disadvantage when it came to school; I could feel it in my bones that I wasn't prepared for it. Stifling a groan at the thought of all the people I'd have to put up with today – Harris, who hated everybody; Jackson, who was a jackass with a capital J; and, of course, the annoying couple-y antics of some of Lydia's tagalongs – I rubbed some foundation into my face, checking my texts once I was done.

_omw sweetie xoxo_

I sighed. Lydia had arranged for her to pick me up this morning so we could make an 'appropriate' entrance, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. I loved the girl, truly, but walking in with Lydia Martin was certainly not a way to lie low.

_getting ready still, lyd xoxo_

Finally finished, I wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen. Papa leaned against the counter beside the coffee machine, sipping from a mug and reading through the newspaper set in front of him. He was garbed in his usual crisp suit, looking as neat as possible. It was one of the things he'd raised me to be like; neat, not scatterbrained like dad, who could walk around in stained jeans and a plaid shirt quite happily.

"Morning, pops." I murmured, stifling another yawn and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

He startled, blinking up at me confusedly, before a sleepy smile made its way across his face. "Mornin', Lex." He slurped more of his coffee as I poured some into my own cup, humming slightly. The kitchen was silent other than the sound of papa turning the pages of the newspaper, giving me time alone with my thoughts. The dream had come back again last night, stronger than before. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see it all; the body, the boy's scream, the howl of a wolf. The red, red eyes.

A chill ran down my spine and I shook off the memories, filching an apple out of the fruit bowl and putting the cup down on the counter as I checked my phone. I had a few texts from the tagalongs – Roxanne Parks was lamenting her return to Beacon and explaining how _beautiful _Paris had been and Norah Gates was asking for outfit advice – but no word from Lydia yet. Papa and I sipped out coffee in companionable silence, with only the crinkling of turning pages interrupting. It was nice. Dad was the louder of the two, the messy one. When he wasn't around, papa seemed much quieter, but a good quiet.

From outside, I heard a horn honking. Lydia. Pecking my dad's cheek and calling out a goodbye over my shoulder, I pulled on a shoulder-bag, put the empty mug in the sink (I just _knew _dad was gonna complain about cleaning it up) and grabbed my keys off the hook by the door, before rushing out and slamming the door behind me not all that gently. Holding the apple between my teeth, I pulled open the passenger door and dropped ungracefully into the seat, beaming at the redhead. She gave me an irritable look in the mirror as she fixed her lipstick.

"What took you so long?" I rolled my eyes at her tone, pulling the apple from my mouth and taking a bite. After swallowing, I retorted,

"Good to see you too, Lydia. My, you look lovely today." Either she didn't hear my sarcasm or she chose to ignore it, because a sickly sweet smile lit up her really far-too-pretty features.

"I do, don't I?" I snort a laugh, and she rolls her eyes, peeling away from my house. "God, I am _so _looking forward to this. Everyone's been on holiday since forever. Including you."

I sighed. My month-trip to Naples had been a point of interest to Lydia, who'd stayed home this summer for the first time in eleven years. She hadn't been happy to hear that I'd be gone for so long when she was _actually _going to be here for me.

"Okay, one? Jackson's been here, and you've obviously been very happy about _that_." Had she been anyone else, she might've blushed. But Lydia was Lydia, so she just raised an eyebrow impatiently and gave me that familiar look. The bitchy _so-what _look she'd spent the last four years perfecting. "Two; do _not _try to guilt me about getting this tan, Lydia."

Lydia huffed, falling silent momentarily, before questioning curiously, "Any more of those freaky bite-fetish-infested dreams of yours?"

_Yes. _"Nope." Something felt- off. I didn't _want _to tell her about them. I don't know why I did in the first place. Looking back on it now, it felt... personal. More personal than anything I'd ever told her. _Besides, _I reasoned, _she wouldn't understand. She's __**Lydia**_. "I guess you were right. Just... stress. I think our shopping spree burned that off." I added a cheery smile that felt hollow. If she noticed anything different, she didn't say anything.

Instead, she stated in an amused tone, "Huh. Guess it did. Shopping cures all ills, Lex, I told you." And we moved on.

My place was fairly close to the school, as opposed to Lydia's, which was on the outskirts of town. We pulled into the parking lot, finding a space near Jackass' Porsche, and, stepping out, I cast my eyes around, searching for any familiar faces. While I disliked many of Lydia's group, I'd grown up with most of them, and I was close to just a few select few. I particularly kept an eye out for Claire James and her boyfriend Matthew, but neither of their faces are anywhere to be found.

With a sigh, I resolved that I'd have to face Jackson on my own, and if he got too irritating (which was _very _likely) I'd just have to punch him. The idea was so incredibly appealing that I felt my fingers curl into a fist of their own violation. I forced them loose, trying not to think about what my willingness to inflict violence on my best friend's boyfriend might mean.

Shaking my head, I stepped around the car to Lydia's side. Her eyes appraised me meticulously, narrowed slightly as her brows furrowed thoughtfully. A flicker of approval bloomed in her eyes, and some sort of pride overwhelmed me, bubbling up in my gut. Without a word on my outfit, she linked her arm through my own and we approached the school. "Plans for today?"

I blinked. "Lydia, it's the first day of school. _Of course _I don't have plans today." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her shrug.

"Good." When I turned to look at her, a beautiful smile curved her lips. For a moment, I was reminded of Italian monasteries and sunsets on the ocean, and I brushed the thought away. _So _not fair. _No one _is allowed to be that pretty. It's against the laws of physics, or biology, or something. "You can come to mine. Help me plan the party."

Ah. The Party – capital P _required _– was a tradition; Lydia threw it on the first Friday back every year, and it was _always _the example to follow for all parties following. It was, after all, a Lydia Martin party; planned to every meticulous detail.

"Great." I replied unenthusiastically. She swatted at my arm at the very moment a gangly, twitchy boy turned to look at her and continued his conversation with,

"-since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey Lydia! You look... like you're gonna ignore me." The girl herself did exactly as he seemed to guess, and, feeling bad for the boy, I looked up at him and offered him a hesitant smile. A cute flush bloomed on his cheeks, and with an amused smile, I cast my eyes to his companion. I had a hard time not tripping in my heels.

It was _him_. The boy from my dream. He seemed uncomfortable under my gaze, but I couldn't believe it.

"Crap." I murmured, shock flooding every inch of me. It was an unpleasant feeling, and I turned back around, looking up at the school in hopes of distracting myself. It was _him! _Him! That boy, the one who'd gotten bitten. _Him! _

It didn't register, not right away. Numbness seemed to settle on me for a moment, before I shook my head. I wasn't crazy. I wasn't psychic. This was all... coincidence. What was that thing? The human brain couldn't create faces, so it used the ones you'd seen in your life in dreams.

I must've seen him somewhere. Around school or something. That _had _to be it.

"Lexi? Lex. Lexi, I swear to _God-_" I blinked back to reality, coming face-to-face with an extremely irritated Lydia Martin. Swallowing down my shock and the unexplainable fear that came with it, I offered her a hesitant smile.

"Uh. Hey, Lydia? What?" Lydia rolled her carefully made up eyes, shaking her head at me.

"I've been trying to get your attention for _forever_!" Her tone clearly showed just how frustrated she was, and she glared at me angrily. I winced, calming the chaotic thoughts that I'd been having as best as I could. Yeah, I'd seen the guy around school. That was it. Nothing else.

"Sorry, Lyd. Lots on my mind." At this little tidbit, my strawberry blond friend perked up some, though her face was still suspicious.

"Like what?"

I bit my lip, scrambling for something to say. I'd already resolved that I wouldn't tell her any more about my dreams. "Uh- like, like..." Casting my mind back to our conversation the day before, I finished, "Like whether Tom from the football team is interested in me. I mean, he _is _pretty cute."

Lydia frowned at me. "Are-are you sure you're ready for that, though? I mean, with Nick..." I did my best to ignore the hollow pain that blossomed in my chest at the mention of my ex, and replied in as smooth a tone as I could,

"Yeah. Nick was an ass. I'm over it." Still, the shorter girl seemed unsure, but a grin curved her lips all the same.

"Good. And, I mean, Tom is _totally _into you. _Everybody's _into you, Lexi." I rolled my eyes fondly, smiling softly. Thank God Lydia was so easy to derail when it came to things I didn't want to talk about. "I could put in a good word for you? Or get Jackson to?"

I managed to stop the wince before it could come. Tom was cute, admittedly, but he was in no way my type. Even if he was, somehow I couldn't see Jackson saying a nice word about me. He hated me as much as I did him. "Uhm. Nah. I'd rather he came to _me_. Like, so that I know he's actually into me, not just doing it to be nice or whatever." To my credit, it was a fairly decent lie for me. I was never all that good at thinking on my feet.

Lydia gave me an odd look. "Oh, c'mon, Lex. We both know you don't believe in that boy-asks-girl _crap_. What is it _really_?" Apparently, it wasn't as good a lie as I thought.

I sighed dramatically, searching for another reason. "Look, I just... I kinda wanna relax for a bit. Be single. I'm just keeping Tom open as a... well, an option."

This time, the redhead seemed to accept my reasoning. She shrugged. "Alright. Fine. I'm hoping you've got _a lot _of these options though, Lexi. Because you seriously should."

I laughed, relief making my limbs lighter. "Yeah, I'll get back to you on that."

We reached the English corridor and parted ways with hugs; I, to walk into Mr Moore's class, Lydia, to head for Physics. There were a few familiar faces dotted around and, I realised with a groan, the boys from this morning.

Quickly, I took a seat beside one of Lydia's tagalongs; a ditzy, if sweet, brunette named Cassidy. She beamed at me welcomingly, already praising me on my tan, commenting on my 'well-picked' outfit and giggling about her holiday. It was easy to block her incessant simpering about her summer fling out, but I made sure to smile here and there and nod in the right places to make it seem like I was listening.

Maybe I should've felt bad, but the girl was just so _irritating_.

"Uh-huh." I mumbled, pulling out my books and a pen from my bag. Finally, I noticed that Cassidy had gone silent, and I turned to her to see her looking at me expectantly. "Uh- that's _great_, Cassidy. It sounds really _great_." I didn't really know what else to say, and I felt a flush rising on my cheeks. However, it seemed like I'd said the right thing, because she started to beam again.

"Aw, thank you, Lexi. That's _so _sweet of you. Honestly, though, you sho-" Whatever she was about to say was cut off when the door opened, and through it strolled the principle and a very pretty, unfamiliar brunette. Instantly, I was interested. We didn't get many new folk in Beacon Hills, but when we did, Lydia was always looking to add to her little group.

The mystery girl smiled hesitantly, cute dimples flashing on her cheeks. "Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent." The principle announced. I gave her a quick once-over, trying to ignore how very _Lydia _I felt. _Definitely the kind of girl Lydia'd approve of._ "Please do your best to make her feel welcome." With his piece said, Allison headed for a seat at the back of the class, and I subtly turned around, only to see her take a seat behind _him_.

Shaking any worrying thoughts out of my head, I reached for my cell and hid it beneath the table, texting Lydia just two words.

_fresh meat._

* * *

**notes: **as always, outfits can be found on my tumblr. review?  
replies:

_Jeanette AE: _Thank you so much for taking the time out to review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter (:

_Terans-DinosaurCostume: _Honestly, boo, your review made me squeal. I'm _so glad _you like Lexi; I hate the clichéd OCs and I honestly worked hard on her. Plus, of course, your Clarissa is one of the most wonderfully perfect OCs I've ever come across, so it means a lot. The two-dads thing was something I was sorta hesitant about; I didn't want to stray into stereotypes and I didn't really know how it would affect Lexi herself (how it would shape her opinions etc) but I'm glad you like it! Thank you for all your compliments, omg, they make me all fuzzy inside (:


	3. Playing Nice

**title: **defender**  
summary: **when she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, lexi hannigan – and her best friend lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. but with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.

* * *

The first few periods crawled by.

I wasn't all that good in school; my talents lay elsewhere, with a paintbrush and canvas. _Lydia _was the smart one; I _just_ got by, scraping by in class while Lydia took her AP courses.

Unfair, I tell you.

After the second class had ended, Lydia linked her arm through mine, offering me a blinding smile as she scoped out the new girl. "Okay, so what's this fresh meat like?" Her tone was distracted, eyes roaming the halls thoughtfully.

I shrugged, chewing on my gum thoughtfully as I thought back to the girl in our first period. "Pretty." I decided, waving at a familiar face and smiling softly. "Brown hair, pale. My height-ish. Maybe a little taller. _Awesome _taste."

From here, I could see Lydia's pleased smile. "Sounds like someone _I _need to get to know."

I rolled my eyes, popping my gum. She gave me an irritated look, and I shook my head amusedly. "We're not the welcoming committee, Lydia."

The shorter girl rolled her pretty eyes at me. "Maybe not, but I'd hate to be rude."

I barked a laugh; Lydia was _always _rude. Bitchy and blunt to boot, the girl was the epitome of a queen bee. I remember hating her when we were younger, back before I'd adjusted to her mannerisms. It was just how she was.

"Point her out for me." The redhead demanded, brows furrowed. I shook my head, laughing softly, before studying the halls. Finally, I caught sight of her, but her eyes were fixed on something across from her. I frowned, turning my head to find out what it was, before stilling. I forced my head away from the boy; my dream about him, it'd been disturbing. Certainly not something I wanted to think about again.

Pointing towards the brunette subtly, I nudged Lydia's side. "There." Louder this time, I called, "Hey, Allison!" She turned around, frowning at me confusedly, but I smiled sweetly. "It _is _Allison, right?" I confirmed when I was closer, frowning thoughtfully. It was 'A' something.

She smiled a dimpled smile, nodding her head. "Yeah, Allison. Who're you?" Her brows creased in a frown. I opened my mouth to reply, but Lydia cut in,

"That jacket is... _absolutely _killer. Where'd you get it?" I rolled my eyes fondly, shaking my head.

"I'm Lexi. The fashion freak over here," I nudged Lydia's side, and she offered me a glare in return, "is Lydia."

Allison's smile could've given me cavities as she replied, "Right. Uhm," she turned her warm gaze to Lydia, "my mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco."

A smile crawled across Lydia's face. "And _you_," she pointed a finger, "are my new best friend."

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and giving the petite girl a mock-offended look. "Am I really that easy to replace, Lydia?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Difference between sister and best friend, Lex." She nudged my side. Her tone was lofty, like she was pointing out the obvious, but I caught a hint of affection in her eyes.

I grinned at her, but my reply was cut off by Jackson the Jackass' entrance. As the two started kissing, I traded an irritated look with Allison, rolling my eyes. She smiled at me tentatively, raising an eyebrow.

"They do this a lot." My comment seemed to break them apart, and Jackson gave me a look. I forced an innocent smile on my face, raising an eyebrow. I was rewarded for my efforts by an eye roll and a sneer, which I took in stride. Contrary to popular belief, Jackson and I hadn't always hated each other, but it was all I was used to these days.

"So you moved here from San Francisco?" Lydia offered, clearly fishing for gossip.

"Uh- yeah. We moved here for dad's work, so." Allison shrugged her shoulders, dimples flashing.

"Okay. So! This weekend, there's a party." Lydia started. I could tell she was somewhat disappointed with Allison's reply; it apparently wasn't the juiciest of gossip.

I grinned. "Lydia's parties are the _best_, you should _totally _come."

Allison frowned. "A party?"

"Yeah, Friday night." Jackson replied. I scowled; Jackson was always a douche at these parties. I mean, he was a douche anyway, but Jackson + alcohol = punch in the face for you, sir.

"Like Lexi said, you've _got _to be there." Lydia added. It didn't sound like a suggestion.

"Ah- I can't. It's family night this Friday. Thanks for asking." I gave her an apologetic look at the last bit; Lydia was the type to demand things and expect them to fall in her lap, which they often did. If you weren't yet used to it, it could be overwhelming.

"That sucks." I intervened. "But I guess you can just come to the next one." Allison nodded, lips curving in a sweet smile.

"Are you sure? I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage." Jackson asked, as though I hadn't said anything. I gave him a cold look, narrowing my eyes and glaring at him irritably.

"You mean, like, football?" I winced upon hearing the question, and the other brunette seemed to have realised she'd said something wrong.

"Football's a joke, are you kidding? Our sport's lacrosse." I rolled my eyes at her, earning an amused smile in return. If you got Jackson going about lacrosse, he'd never stop. "We've won the state championship for the last three years."

Lydia began fussing with her boyfriend's hair, and I gave her a fondly annoyed look. "Only because of a certain team captain." The ginger informed Allison.

"Yeah, because _no one _did any work apart from _him_." I murmured. Jackson glared at me, and Lydia shook her head at me, annoyance in her eyes. I raised an eyebrow, daring him to say anything; he might be Lydia's boyfriend, but I wasn't adverse to kicking him where it hurt if it came down to it.

"Well we have practice in a few minutes, that is, if you don't have anywhere else to go." Jackson continued the conversation, pointedly ignoring my comment, though I could see a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Well, I was going to-" Allison started.

"Perfect!" Lydia said, beaming and grabbing Allison's hand with her own. I gave her yet another apologetic look, falling into stride with the brunette and pointedly ignoring the way she looked over at the guy from my dream.

"Sorry about Lyd." I muttered. "She's a little... eager."

Allison shook her head at me, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. "It's okay."

I raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, and a blush flared on her cheeks, but she didn't say anything further.

The walk to the lacrosse field was peppered with questions, both on Lydia and I's part and Allison's. She told us a little about her life in San Francisco, about her dad the arms supplier and her mom the ex-fashion buyer. It was nice to hear about her. In return, Lydia and I told her about Beacon Hills; about the hot hangouts, the places you should never be caught dead in, the trends this season. The other girl looked a little overwhelmed by it all – Lydia had long since mastered talking without pausing for breath – but there was no way to stop my best friend now that she was on a roll.

Finally, we reached the stands. Lydia ran a cursory glance over the field and all the people in it, but I instead settled for taking a seat. I patted the space beside me, giving Allison a warm smile, which she returned a little hesitantly. After sitting down – Lydia took her place beside the brunette – she smiled at someone, but I didn't bother to look.

"McCall!" The yell was loud enough that I heard it, and I rolled my eyes at the coach, turning my head a little to see what poor soul had caught his attention. And there he was, yet again. How had I gone a year without ever seeing his face, and now, all of a sudden, I was seeing him _everywhere_? It made no sense.

I suppressed a groan, blocking out the rest of the coach's yells in order to think over this recent development. It was _fine_. I'd be _fine_. It didn't mean anything; he was a kid in my class who I dreamed of. That's it. I'd dreamed of Lydia before, why would this creep me out?

Trying to distract myself, I turned my eyes back to practice. "Who is that?" Allison murmured to Lydia and I, and I blinked, following her eyes, before scowling.

I shrugged my shoulders carelessly, popping my gum, as Lydia replied, "Him?" She sounded both amused and derisive, "I'm not sure who he is." There was a beat of silence, and though I couldn't see her face, I knew she was giving Allison a look. "Why?"

"He's in my English class." She shook her head, smiling as she said it, and I snorted softly, nudging her side.

"What?" She asked, looking confused.

"'He's in my English class'? Allison, _I'm _in your English class. At least come up with a better excuse than that."

She elbowed my side, shaking her head with a soft laugh, though a blush bloomed on her cheeks. "Shut up." The brunette mumbled, and I laughed.

The referee blew the whistle, and I blinked in confusion as McCall covered his ears and reared back as though the sound physically pained him. I winced sympathetically, though his action confused me. Super sensitive hearing, I guess? Or just a _really _bad headache.

The first player came at him, letting the ball fly, and I groaned slightly as McCall – who'd been distracted by his apparent pain – was hit squarely in the face. "Ouch." I murmured, and Allison nodded her head from beside me. Laughter echoed around the field, a few of the players calling out jeering comments. I rolled my eyes; I hated it when Lydia dragged me to practice.

The next throw, however, McCall caught. A thin-looking, shaved-head boy on the bench let out a call of, "Yeah!" I frowned. Was that the kid from this morning?

He caught the next ball, gaining another cheer from his friend. I shared a look with Lydia over Allison's head. _Who is this kid? _I mouthed. She shrugged, clearly irritated with her lack of knowledge on the subject.

He caught the next, and the next, and the next. I studied him critically; how does one kid get so good over just a few weeks? Even with an insane amount of practice, you don't improve _that _much. I knew; Lydia had been pulling me along with her to watch Jackson practice. Jackson was good; this kid was better.

As though reading my thoughts, Allison stated, "He seems like he's pretty good."

I scoffed. "More than good; _great_."

Then Jackson pushed his way to the front of the line, staring down the kid in goal. I winced sympathetically. "Lyd, your boyfriend's gonna murder this guy."

Lydia snorted on Allison's other side, and when I turned to the other brunette, I saw her wince, though interest lurked in her eyes.

And then Jackson started running. He'd always been pretty quick on his feet, slimy asshole that he was, and as he let the ball loose, I winced, lifting one hand to cover my eyes. This would _not _end well.

I heard a few cheers, and the scrawny boy's familiar hoots. Pulling my hand away from my eyes, I blinked at the ball in McCall's net; even _he _looked surprised. "Well I'll be damned." I murmured, watching Lydia get to her feet to cheer.

"That is my friend!" The boy on the bench yelled, grinning broadly. I gave a half-amused, half-annoyed laugh, watching him celebrate. It was almost cute, in a dopey, goofy kinda way.

As McCall shot the ball towards the referee, I blinked. Seriously, how does someone get _that _good, _that _quick?

* * *

**notes: **as always, outfits can be found on my tumblr. _please _think about leaving a review, 'cause it really motivates me. thank you to everyone who has so far, the positive feedback i'm getting is incredible!  
replies:

_xXbriannaXx: _Aw, thank you so much! I'm glad you like her! Hope you liked this chapter too (:

_TameTheGhosts: _Thank you doll (: I'm hoping I did her dynamic with the others justice, at least. I have a lot more in store for the others. Hope you enjoyed it (:

_Jeanette AE: _Well, I'm glad that you enjoyed it as much, I know that a lot of the time my first chapter is better than the later ones. Hope this was as good too (:

_Loueh Tomlegendson: _Aha, thank you very much. I'm glad that you seem to think they're decent, and I hope that this chapter seemed decent too (:

_X23 Maximoff: _Awww, it honestly means so much to me that you think she's realistic. I tend to have a hard time with that. You and me both, and, even though the romance will _probably _be a slow-building one, I can't wait to get to it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it :)


	4. It's Party Time

**title: **defender  
**summary: **when she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, lexi hannigan – and her best friend lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. but with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.

* * *

Lydia's party was, as always, something of brilliance.

I knew this because we'd spent _weeks_ pouring over plans together, deciding just where to hang the fairy lights - over the pool, we'd settled on - and what drinks to serve, who we should invite. Lydia had strived for perfection since we were kids, back when she'd totter around in her mommy's heels, me in tow with pearls around my neck and lipstick smeared on my cheeks. It was just a part of who she was, and, over time, had become a part of who I was.

Allison had called at the last minute to say she'd managed to worm out of family night, which I was pretty sure meant she'd scored a hot date and was ready to face her new friends' chaotic party. I had the distinct feeling the dimpled brunette would come to regret that decision, though I didn't say anything. This was, after all, our - me and Lydia's - time to shine, and show that the Argent really wasn't missing anything, coming to Beacon Hills.

The party was in full swing, and Lydia had disappeared somewhere with Jackson the Jackass hours ago, leaving me to my own devices. That is, bored out of my mind. I hadn't found Allison despite my efforts, and was left to drinking myself into a stupor in an effort to relieve my boredom. It didn't help, though it did make the room spin interestingly every so often.

Red cup in my hand - I noticed the beer slosh over the sides and onto my dress whenever I took a particularly heavy step - and eyes near closed, I half-stumbled towards the hot-tub, leaning against the side and groaning. I felt like shit. I felt _worse _than shit; I felt like shit that had been stepped in and walked halfway across America.

I'd had _way _too much, if you couldn't tell.

I put the cup down on the edge beside me, but felt it more than saw it when it tipped over and leaked onto my hand. I groaned again.

This _sucked_.

Lydia was a bitch for leaving me here to drink myself to death.

Such a total bitch with an annoyingly hot boyfriend and an annoyingly cute dog.

A dog that was currently lapping up the beer puddle at my feet.

I groaned a third time, clumsily sitting on the ground and running a hand through Prada's fur as I buried my face into my free palm. The music made my head pound, and the world around me twirled on its axis.

"Hey, woah, are- are you okay?" The voice made it worse, and I waved the hand that had been stroking Prada at it irritably, murmuring something along the lines of 'fuck off'. "Do- do you need, like... help, or something?"

And that was the last straw. The nasuea became too much, and I pulled my face away from my hand - which was much harder than it should have been - and leaned over to the side to throw up on someone's shoes. "Oh, that's gross. Oh god- you- yeah, you need help. Help. Uh."

"Shut up." I ground out, wiping the vomit from my mouth with the back of my hand, before attempting to look up at him. My head felt heavy, weighted, like someone had stuffed lead in through my ears and replaced my brain with it.

It took a while, but finally my head straightened out and the world stopped spinning long enough for me to identify the speaker as the kid who had a crush on Lydia; that twitchy one, whatever his name was. I glared at him weakly, but I could feel myself swaying and see the way he was more concerned than intimidated.

Up close, he was a little cuter, in a dorky, geeky sorta way. I caught sight of a pair of amber eyes before his features blurred again and I felt the burn of puke in my throat. I leaned away from him clumsily, letting it out on the ground beside me.

Oh, Lydia was gonna _kill _me.

_Good_, a voice in the back of my head said, _it's her fucking fault anyway._

"Shut up." I murmured again, this time quieter, and I didn't know if it was directed at the voice or the boy, who was talking again.

"- Uh, you- you need to get a bucket. And home. Or into a- a bed, or something, like... a couch. Does Lydia have a couch, Lexi?"

I frowned, focusing only on his use of my name. That wasn't fair! How come he got to know _my _name but I didn't know _his_?

"Because you're _Lexi Hannigan_, I'm pretty sure that's how it works." He said, and I realised I'd said it out loud. I frowned at his vague shape, before closing my eyes. The light made my head hurt too much.

"Slightly creepy, that. What's- what's _your _name, then?"

"My-_my _name?" He sounded almost like he didn't believe he'd heard it right. I scowled irritably, swatting at what I hoped was his shoulder. The contact seemed to remind him to continue, and he replied, "Stiles. Stiles Stilinski? We've been in the same class since _kindergarten_?"

I frowned. Stiles? What a weird name. "No clue."

I heard him sigh, and then he said, "Lexi, where're- where're the bedrooms, or like, the living room, or anywhere you can lie down?"

I giggled. "Are- Are you trying to get me into bed, Stiles? Not very _gentlemanly _of you."

There were a few beats of silence, before he stuttered, "W-what?! No! No, I wouldn't- I mean, not that you aren't- But no! I-" I cut him off with a snort of laughter, head lolling to the side as I moved with the force of my mirth.

"You- You're funny, Stilinski. Um. There's- Lydia's room is upstairs. Why?" My question was answered moments later, when I felt arms slip under my knees and back, and the ground fell away. I heard Stiles groan, and I glared at him, which was pretty hard, what with the whole _blurry _thing and all.

"Are you suggesting I'm _fat_?" I slurred angrily, and got the impression that he was shaking his head hastiliy, though he didn't say anything. I leaned my head against his shoulder, which was pretty damn warm, and let my eyes fall shut again. I was _exhausted_.

His footsteps were soothing, and soon I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

I didn't dream of howling, nor did I dream of red eyes.

That doesn't mean my dreams were peaceful.

* * *

I awoke to the sunlight streaming down on my face, and I pounding headache. My every _cell _felt like they had been run over by a freight train, and my stomach rolled in disgust. I could taste my morning breath, but I didn't feel stable enough to get up and brush my teeth.

After a while of lying there, face buried in my pillow, I rolled onto my back with a grunt, blinking up at a ceiling that wasn't mine.

What the...?

In a rush of memory, last night came flooding back to me, and I groaned. God, what had I _done_? What-

My thoughts were interrupted by the door to Lydia's room slamming open, where the she-devil herself stood.

Though she looked as exhausted as I felt, she somehow pulled it off prettier; her copper-coloured hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she'd made the effort to put on make-up, at least, though she was clothed in sweats.

She glared at me angrily, and I glared right back. I was still pissed at her for abandoning me for her jerk-off boyfriend.

After a few moments of glaring, my will crumbled, and I sighed. "Whatever it is, I'm _sorry_." I felt like shit anyway, and I didn't need to add a fight with my best friend to my growing list of problems.

Lydia didn't look convinced, but after a few beats of silence, she sighed and dropped down onto the bed beside me. "You took my bed."

I rolled my eyes. "No, I didn't. I _passed out _on your bed."

She mimicked me, shaking her head, before replying carelessly, "Potato, potahto. Look, whatever. I feel like shit warmed up, and you _look _it," I didn't take that bit to heart. "so can we just watch movies all day and sleep?"

And we did exactly that. Between _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _marathons, - a guilty pleasure neither of us would ever admit to - a couple of episodes of _America's Next Top Model_ and an hour of _Inception _- until Lydia had gotten bored and frustrated with the plot - we managed to squeeze in a few hours of sleep, until we felt somewhat human again.

Lydia's mom, Eleanor, had called my dad with pursed lips when we'd stumbled downstairs that morning, and I was sure to receive a stern lecture when I finally got home. I put it off as long as possible, even helping Lydia clean up the house, until I could delay it no longer.

The moment I walked in the door, I was greeted by the stern looks of my dads. Dad stood against the stair railing, arms crossed, and Papa was sat on the stairs, leaning back against the one behind him. Neither of them looked happy, and I baulked.

"Uhm. Hi?"

Papa raised an eyebrow at me, before saying, "How was your night, Alexia?"

I winced. Full name, ouch. Going for casual, I shrugged my shoulders, but the movement felt robotic. "It was alright. Pretty boring, actually."

Dad gave me a _look_. "That's not how we hear it."

And thus began the torture of parental punishment.

* * *

notes: ugh, i am _so _sorry for the wait. writer's block, you know how it is. (don't kill me pretty please)  
on another note, what did you think of lexi and stiles' first conversation? i felt like i got him entirely wrong, so any comments or reviews would help.

reviews:

_Terans-DinosaurCostume:_ you cutie patootie, just sit your butt down. hugs are good, though. hugs all around. ugh, i mean it when i say your reviews make me so _fuzzy _and things. just fongondpfin you say the nicest things! thank you for the review m'love.

_X23 Maximoff: _ugh, i know exactly what you mean with the slow-building romances. but i hope their slight little bit of conversation and lexi's thoughts might maybe heal your soul a little? thanks for the review, sweetie!


	5. Mondays Suck

**title: **defender**  
summary: **when she starts dreaming of werewolves and red eyes, lexi hannigan – and her best friend lydia, too – thinks she's going insane. but with the recent animal attacks and her unfortunate habit of slipping into the geeky crowd, she's got a whole lot more cut out for her than insanity.

* * *

Hangovers are a bitch.

Okay, so maybe that's the most well-known fact in all of human history, but it needed mentioning. I avoided food like the plague all day, and spent the rest of the night curled up beneath a duvet and three blankets with a pillow over my head and my curtains drawn.

Honestly? Not even an exaggeration.

On top of my hours of misery, the dads had made the decision to ground me. Now, this was a new concept to me. I'd never been... well, a _good girl_, but I'd never been as rebellious as Lydia. I'd gotten grounded maybe twice in my entire life, and it never got easier for me. Being grounded _severely _sucks. Lydia had reported that she'd gotten off lightly; her parents weren't good for much asides using her in their battles, but they were extremely tolerant. I'd never know if this was because they felt guilty about what their divorce was doing to her – which was a lot, though I knew my strawberry-blonde bestie well enough to know she'd never admit it – or just that they were that neglectful, but she was left to merely clean up the mess caused by her party.

Not for the first time, I found myself envying her. (Not that it was that difficult, of course; the girl seemed to have everything she wanted, even if I knew she didn't).

So, besides my failure of a Saturday, not much happened over the weekend. Being grounded, there was no chatting to Lydia or scrolling through Tumblr, so I was left to do something productive, like my homework.

It wasn't fun, if that wasn't obvious.

Monday morning came ridiculously fast, though. I'd picked out my outfit the night before – a soft pink high-waisted skirt with a black belt around the waist with a cream blouse tucked into it, black heels and a brown leather jacket – so the day wasn't a _total _disaster, at least. With a bag thrown over my shoulder and a scowl on my face, I studied the car I was to drive to school. Part of this whole 'grounded' thing was that Lydia couldn't drive me to school anymore.

Yes, my dads were trying to ruin my life.

It was a POS, to be honest. Unlike Lydia, I hadn't gotten my own car for my sixteenth birthday, so I was left to drive Dad's old van. (Social suicide, I tell you; _social. Freaking. Suicide._)

Sighing, I pulled open the door and dropped into the driver's seat, pushing my purse onto the passenger's seat. It smelt vaguely like my dad's cologne; sharp and citrusy, and I wrinkled my nose slightly. It smelled expensive. It didn't look it.

About twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot at school and quickly tried to get as far away from the van as I could. I suppose I could be considered 'untouchable' for being so close to Lydia, but that wasn't entirely true. The ginger was as much a diva as they came, after all, and even my being her best friend wouldn't stop the eye roll I knew was coming.

Except it didn't. She didn't even seem to notice, so concentrated was she on Allison, who was huffing and sighing dramatically.

I knew that huffing and sighing; I was still prone to it, even now.

Boy problems.

Murmuring a greeting to Lydia, I threw an arm around the pale brunette's shoulders sympathetically. She gave me a vaguely confused look, and I sighed.

"That thing with Sam not work out?" The comment both seemed to depress her further and cheer her up. No, I don't understand how that's possible. The smile that curved her lips wasn't big enough to be dimpled, but it was enough.

"Scott, Lexi. His name's Scott." She sighed. Allison actually _sighed _his name.

"Right, Scott." I'd remembered that, actually, though I'd tried as hard as I could to forget it. I didn't _want _ to remember him. I wanted to forget his face, I wanted to forget his screams, and I wanted to forget his very existence.

Believe me, it's not as easy as it sounds.

Lydia tittered at my response, and I offered her a grin. _This _was a girlfriend's job; to talk shit and generally make guys seem awful when they turned you down or fucked up in any other way.

Lydia had been very good at doing that after my breakup with Nick.

"No. No, it didn't work out." That smile was still there despite her sad tone, I noted, and I felt a strange sense of accomplishment because of it.

Nudging her side, Lydia grinned. "Well, let's just make you sexy as you can be and make his little heart stop."

Snorting, I linked an arm through Allison's and nodded my head, leading her towards the school building. "Well, we don't have to do much," now that wasn't even me being a schmooze; Allison was just _that _beautiful, "just mess those curls up and get the flirty thing down."

The brunette's cheeks flushed as she offered the two of us a hesitant smile. "Thanks, guys."

I was distracted from further conversation by Twitchy. Okay, yes, I meant _Stiles_. But I'd blocked out the night of Lydia's party as much as I could, so his name was blocked out with it.

He was standing by his jeep, discussing something with McCall, and seemingly pretty into the argument. A frown creased his forehead, and I grinned. His frown was... weird. It scrunched up his face a bit like a pug's, and as he got more and more pissed, the lines became more and more defined. Turning away, I shook my head. Twitchy was a weirdo, with weird friends. But he was a nice weirdo, I'd give him that.

First period was Economics; so basically, hell on earth. Coach Finstock yelled everything he said because he'd apparently never heard of an 'inside voice', and since Economics was a class I was failing – well, not really, I was _just _scraping a B – I had to pay attention. Which sucked, and I scowled as I watched Lydia texting from under the desk. _Fucking geniuses._

Class passed slowly, and I idly took notes and drew in the margins as the Coach yelled at Greenberg. I sighed as I worked to recreate the red eyes from my dream with a red biro. It was the thing that was hardest to forget. I'd wake up in the night expecting to see them above me, to feel the creature's breath in my face, rustling my pyjamas.

Yes, I was scared shitless.

I'd get over it; I got over my nightmares from _The Fourth Kind_, after all. I'd probably just watched something creepy, or something. Yeah, yeah that was it.

The bell rang, and as I watched Twitchy – _Stiles_, Lexi, call him by his name – stand up, I made a split-second decision. "Hey, Stiles!"

His head snapped up from his bag, and he blinked at me owlishly, glancing behind him quickly like I was talking to someone else. Okay, I get that he was the geek and I the 'mean girl', but wasn't that going a little far?

Eventually, he seemed to get that I was talking to him, and he cleared his throat and smiled nervously. I noted with surprise that his smile was as interesting as his frown; his lips were kinda thin, but it was still the fullest smile I'd ever seen. I grinned; it was sweet. For a moment, I entertained the idea of being his friend; it wasn't any particular decision I'd made, not being friends with the geeks, it was just that... well, I was _Lydia's _friend. You couldn't be both.

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he fidgeted with the strap of his bag as I drew closer. He didn't seem to be able to keep still, either. It was... weird.

"Listen, I'm... I'm sorry, about the other night." He opened his mouth and closed it again, before looking down and shrugging. Looking back up at me, he offered me a hesitant smile.

"Oh- no, no don't, it was fine. I mean, it was a little gross but- I mean... I don't know what I mean."

I laughed softly, and he seemed surprised by the noise. "_Right_. Well, still... I'm sorry. I _totally _ruined your shoes, and I feel really bad about it, so..." I trailed off. Where was I going with this?

He shook his head furiously. "It- okay, it was gross, admittedly, but hey! I got puked on by Lexi Hannigan, that's- y'know, not many people can say that." He seemed to regret it as soon as he said it, because his eyes closed and he looked like he was berating himself.

I laughed again. He was funny. There's that, at least. "Yeah, well... Still. Thanks. Not many guys would be that nice about a girl passing out against a hot tub. And I know about _zero _who would leave her in bed alone, so... yeah. Thanks again."

He cleared his throat, hand lifting to scratch the back of his head. "No, no it's... it's fine. I mean... I'm not an asshole, so I wasn't gonna like- I mean, you're- Ugh. Just... it's fine."

Smiling slightly, I nodded my head. "Right." Something occurred to me; Allison. Stiles was friends with Allison's little boy-toy. "Oh! Uhm, by the way, tell that friend of yours that he needs to make things up to Allison, STAT."

He nodded quickly, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. "Uh- yeah. Right. I'll- I'll let Scott know." He paused, frowning slightly, before saying, "Thanks, Lexi."

I grinned, brushing past him and saying over my shoulder, "Yeah, well... I've got a heart, sometimes."

* * *

"He what?!"

Perched on my bed, I blinked in surprise as Allison recounted down the phone what had happened at the end of the day. The dads were out picking up takeout, so I'd managed to sneak a call to the brunette. She sounded... giddy. I guessed it was the standard lovesick-girl tone, but I couldn't imagine ever sounding like that. My time dating Nick seemed like years ago now, even if that same pain was still present in my chest.

"He _apologised_! God, Lex, he _actually _apologised. I mean, I thought it was something I did, but he had a genuine excuse!"

_Well done, McCall. Well done._

* * *

notes: thank you for the reviews, everyone! i hope this chapter lived up to expectations maybe?

_Emmettluver2010:_ i hope this is soon-ish? but thanks for the review!

_kaljara: _your review made me squeal, omg. but thank you so much! i'm glad that stiles seems true-to-character, since writing canons makes me so freaking nervous you don't even know. i'm glad you like lydia, since she's how i see her? and the jackson/lexi dynamic is one of my favourites, i think, and i can't wait for a confrontation, because seriously? that amount of sass? pure gold.

_xXbriannaXx: _thank you! i hope you liked the minimal stexi in this chapter, maybe?

_milliontinystars: _thank you so much! i'm glad you like stiles, sweetie, because just... urgh, he's my favourite character, i'd hate it if i didn't do him justice.


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